


What Moonlight Keeps Silent

by xseaxwitchx



Series: Snape Appreciation Month 2k17 [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Depression, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 09:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13521309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xseaxwitchx/pseuds/xseaxwitchx
Summary: Severus was standing in front of 12 Grimmauld Place after the conclusion of another Order meeting. He took in the site of the place as a whole: the shingles were too loose to last much longer, the porch deteriorated into a sad state of a slab of concrete, the windows darkened with excess grime, the siding darkened and rotted with no hope for recovery; it was a pathetic sight to see–the once grand house of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black turned into a dilapidated safe house. Quite the reflection of Black himself, thought Severus with a swift turn.





	What Moonlight Keeps Silent

**Author's Note:**

> I also have a tumblr; come say hi!

Severus was standing in front of 12 Grimmauld Place after the conclusion of another Order meeting. He took in the site of the place as a whole: the shingles were too loose to last much longer, the porch deteriorated into a sad state of a slab of concrete, the windows darkened with excess grime, the siding darkened and rotted with no hope for recovery; it was a pathetic sight to see–the once grand house of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black turned into a dilapidated safe house.  _Quite the reflection of Black himself_ , thought Severus with a swift turn.

He stalked off into the night, the darkness engulfing him. Him and Black got into a nasty argument that would have surely ended in death on behalf of Severus had Mad-Eye not stepped in and disarmed Black. Severus prided himself in being a smart man, in knowing when to pick his battles and let spells start flying; he wasn’t going to let Black be the one to break that; he wasn’t going to let Black be the first person Severus would kill in cold blood, or in general. Severus’ soul already felt so weary, so much older than what his physical form presented; his soul was tired.

His legs carried him to the familiar sight of a dark alley, away from muggles and perfect for Disapparation. He was perfectly prepared to go back to his chambers, to sleep in peace, but he realized he was still enraged from the earlier confrontation. He thought of the one place that always welcomed him, that never judged him, that never failed to calm him down: the ocean shimmering in the moonlight. His neck was craned upwards toward the full moon.  _At least Lupin had enough sense to take his Wolfsbane and ignore Black’s ridiculous accusations of me trying to poison the werewolf; I’m a man, not a monster_ , Severus thought. With the last six words ringing in no one’s ears but his own, he himself not believing them for a second, he Disapparated to the ocean.

In the middle stood a platform of rock, worn away at for hundreds of years by the turbulent waters–this was the place Severus landed. The ocean breeze played with his hair, its fingers weaving through the wind-swept raven strands with the care of a mother. The stillness of the surrounding silence caressed his ears, whispering tales of old, excitedly waiting for him to tell his story next. The saltiness of the waves met with Severus’ nose and he inhaled deeply, welcoming the scent he so long yearned after about eight months of not visiting. To him, it seemed the waves grew slightly more violent with his arrival, as if asking the exact question to his absence. He exhaled heavily.

He stuffed his wand up his sleeve, then he sat on the rock, his legs beneath him and his hands on his knees. His eyes roamed the surface, catching sights of jagged rock jutting from the ocean’s mysterious depths. What he focused on, though, was the bright full moon reflecting off the surface of the water. The moonlight appeared to give the water life, an observation Severus cherished for reasons even he doesn’t know. He knows that the waters behave the same way during sunlight hours, but he can’t shake the feeling that reality at night is altered into the dances of the silent. Night used to be nothing more than another hour of hell in his old home; now, night is the only escape from perpetual hell.

While not a clear night, the clouds added their own beauty to the scene, their own serenity. Severus laid himself on the rock platform, stomach-side down, and placed his chin on top of his folded hands, staring into the depths, wishing for an escape. He always wondered what it feels like to drown. He’s always wondered what it feels like to slowly realize there’s no one to save you from the water filling your lungs as you struggle to breath, the thrashing of each limb as your body slowly loses oxygen, the final realization of you walking into Death’s arms and giving in to the temptation of giving up and letting go. Unfortunately, he’s thought about it too often to admit, and it crossed his mind a few times to just…jump. Jump into the cool depths where little is known. Known to be unknown and dangerous. Dangerous like himself.

He almost did it once, almost jumped. He hesitated maybe once because he knew the oath he’d sworn to himself, to protect Lily’s son. It was that thought that brought about memories of her smiling face, of her innocent giggling from their childhood, how beautiful she always managed to be whether she was sad or content, angry or calm. He wanted that again; he wanted to join her where she was. He wanted to simply be  _happy_  again. That was when his right foot dangled over the edge of the rock. He wasn’t scared to die, he was calm about. He felt free for once. Then, he swore he heard his name. “Severus,” it implored, but in a gentle voice, music to his ears. His foot automatically placed itself back on the rock. “Severus,” it whispered again. There was no room for another person to stand with him on this rock without him knowing and certainly no one knew about this place, not the Dark Lord or Dumbledore for sure. But the voice sounded like Lily’s. He shook his head, ridding himself of that thought because Lily was dead, there was no changing that. He placed his right foot over the surface of the raging waves; it seemed as if the ocean itself was against his actions, but he didn’t care. Why should he? No cared for him, he wouldn’t be missed.

“Severus, your promise.” That one was so close to his left ear that he was startled. It was as if the delicate voice belonged to the wind itself. The breeze gently blew past his nose, the sweet smell of lilies and lilac filling his senses–Lily’s old perfume. Severus closed his eyes, exhaling with a shaky breath. He opened his eyes, and beside his left foot was a lily in full bloom. It’s bell shape reminded him of the church bells he would hear, and still does in the summer, on Sundays.

He looked out into the wide expanse of ocean, two clearly marked tear trails marking his face, the moonlight illuminating his war paint.

But that was over three years ago.

Now, he was in too deep to ever allow himself the luxury of suicide, let alone contemplating it. He lifted his head from his hands and hovered his left hand above the surface. His mind was still replaying the events from about half an hour ago, increasing his anxiety and anger. The mask of serenity on his face fell suddenly, him smacking the water and standing suddenly. The channeling of his anger at this moment could never be turned productive. He was doing nothing more than (barely) pacing; well, it was more shuffling than anything. He needed to let his anger out, so did the only thing that came to mind: he screamed. He faced the moon and screamed as if it wronged him in some way; he screamed until he fell to his knees because he no longer had the energy to stand; he screamed until it came out hoarse, until his throat was nothing more than a memory; he screamed until he turned into nothing more than the broken child he once was, his voice devolving into labored breathing and heart-shattering sobs. 

At his feet, a lily in full bloom.


End file.
